America needs Peaches, and I will tell you why: Who else is going to flip the gender roles of bukkake? Who else is going to ask the important questions, like “Whose jizz is this?” while simultaneously flipping the “ass clapping” and “titty-shaking” female exploitation of booty bass to “dicks slapping” and “balls flopping”? Who else is at the forefront tearing down the norms of body aesthetic expectations and gender identity? Who else is going to rescue everyone from drowning in a sea of selfies, internet culture and sex apps? Rub is the new addition to the Peaches campaign, and I’m voting for her for president.
Peaches has once again left another radical snail trail on the world of music with Rub; like all of Peaches records, you’re going to want to dance, you’re going to want to raise your fist and you’re going to want to hop in the shower once the album is done from the various fluids you will produce and get splashed with. The bang your head, electropunk and “rock” on previous albums is not found here on any individual track, but has been woven into music, mood and lyrics. This album is meticulously crafted to make you move. Surging beats and pulsating rhythms keep Rub at a pretty good clip; the title track “Rub”, ”Light in Places”, “Pickles”, “Vaginoplasty” and “Sick in the Head” (my favorite) gallop along while accumulating various layers of electronics and sounds with an occasional tempo shattering breakdown that keeps the songs unpredictable and engaging.
Some of the dirtier jams, like the bass heavy “Dick in the Air,” “Close Up” (featuring Kim Gordon), “I Mean Something” (featuring Feist), and “How You Like My Cut,” will be jostling your guts while you’re scrubbing the ground. The track “Close Up” and its music video feature fellow goddess Kim Gordon as Peaches’ vaping and shit-talking wrestling coach and watches her put the smack down on various costumed wrestlers and their body fluids. I also recommend watching the video for “Dick in the Air” starring Margaret Cho and Peaches sporting some knit body suits adorned with giant knit dicks as they show you what to do on your day off with your yarny balls.
Rub taps into the extremes of Peaches’ fun and satirical side, but also her darker and angry side. You get elements of both on all of her albums, but this one seems to have some of her darkest songs, like “Free Drink Ticket,” which a little research reveals is about an ex-lover. There is a definite ire boiling under the surface of these songs; whether it was all triggered by this ex or just the current state our world is in, there is an angst here that modern music has been lacking these days.
Rub is classic Peaches at its finest; it has the spunk and rawness of Teaches of Peaches but with more layers and complexity and fits nicely in her arsenal of full lengths. She still reigns as a pivotal feminist in music and has carried the torch of many feminist/queer musicians before her; she has crossed genres with it and continues to plow ahead while also addressing sexual liberation, queer activism and gender expression/identity. I hope to see more young musicians follow in her footsteps.
Rating: 5.0 out of 6 Doves Prince’s Minnetonka Tea Time was interrupted when he overheard Peaches’ Rub and thought for a split second that it may almost be as good as one of his own albums. After splashing his cup of tea into his ankle masseuse’s face, he went downstairs into his studio and wrote the best mind-melting neo-funk-jazz-fusion box set known to man.